The Master and I: A Tale in Ten Parts
by SawManiac211
Summary: You didn't really think that the Wizard made it to power all on his own, did you? This is the story of his rise and fall from Greatness, and the man who was with him every step of the way, yet never really Mastered him after all.


**Act I: The Meeting** **of Two Men**

There was nothing particularly unordinary about that day, other than that the man who would one day become the Wizard had just tried – and failed – to drown himself. The sky remained normally overcast, the gulls wheeled and screeched overhead in their normal fashion, and as he wept into the sand the waves roared back and forth unceasingly, as they always did. However when the strange man appeared out of thin air and coughed politely to get his attention, the soon-to-be Wizard realised that this was as _un_-normal as you could possibly get. Dressed in a dark suit, the man stretched out a hand, a charming smile plastered on his face.

"Looks like you could do with a hand." He said.

* * *

><p><strong>Act II: The Devil's Offer<strong>

He gave the name 'the Master' and declined to say anything else about himself. As they strolled together down the beach, the Wizard – although he didn't know that this was his name yet – felt shabby and poorly dressed alongside his companion. When he asked why he was here, the Master winked roguishly.

"You are going to achieve greatness; I'm just here to make it happen."

"How? How do you know what to do?"

"I've been in a...position of greatness before." And here also he declined to go any further. He did, however, voice the opinion that the Wizard needed a suit, as suits (in his opinion) signified importance and a certain social class. When the Wizard asked _how_ he knew suits were best, the Master raised a sardonic eyebrow and gestured down at himself.

The Wizard didn't ask any more questions.

* * *

><p><strong>Act III: The In-Between<strong>

It is not well documented about what the Master and the Wizard did between then and their unexpected arrival in Oz. Travelling, certainly, and many evenings discussing the Master's ideas on Greatness. And buying a suit. Whatever happened, the pair descended in a less-than-elegant way in a hot air balloon ('purchased' by the Master) onto Oz, the way an eagle may descend on its prey.

* * *

><p><strong>Act IV: 'Animals' to 'animals'<strong>

The first thing to do, the Master said, was to dispatch anything that might oppose them. By 'dispatch' the Wizard knew he meant kill, and this he readily did, with hardly any persuasion needed. His next act, met with the Master's strong approval, was to make the public think that Animals were no better than animals and turn them against the unfortunates; to give them something to focus on when the glamour started wearing off. And it _would_ wear off, the Master stressed. No amount of propaganda could keep everyone happy for long.

The Wizard was worried, at first, that the new rules would cause an uproar. To his surprise people went along with it, and when the cogs and wheels of the new regime seemed to be running smoothly he allowed himself to relax just a tad.

* * *

><p><strong>Act V: The Alliance<strong>

The Master was in charge of his army, his Gale Force, his spies and secrets. The recruitment of Madame Morrible, however, was the Wizard's idea. She took barely any persuading because of her massive lust for power, so the Master's slick tongue was – unusually – not needed. On their meetings though he was charming to the point of flirtatiousness, causing her to blush and giggle like the schoolgirls she taught and brainwashed. Perhaps this, and not the Wizard's power, kept her coming back again and again and obeying his instructions.

Beneath his act, however, the Wizard could tell that the Master found her as annoying as hell, and he was inclined to agree.

* * *

><p><strong>Act VI: The Good, the Bad and the Drunk<strong>

There were many things that the Wizard could tell irritated the Master about him. His habit of stumbling over his words and decisions, for instance, when not hiding behind his 'ridiculous contraption of smoke a mirrors'. And when he ordered a greatcoat of light silver to be tailored for him, the Master winced as though the garment reminded him of something too irksome – or terrible – to be reminded of.

The Wizard, too, had grievances of his own. The way, for instance, the Master put words in his mouth and sometimes made decisions for him. And also how the blasted man knew everything about him, but was so slippery when it came to details about himself. He didn't even know his real name, for Chrissakes!

No matter what their grievances though, and no matter how badly they bickered, they got on quite amicably most of the time. One night the Master even ordered up several bottles of quality wine to celebrate an anniversary of their partnership. When the Wizard queried this, as the Master had advised against drinking, the Master simply poured him a glass.

"My dear Wizard, that is one more lesson to learn: whereas the sorry drink away their sorrows and end up all the sorrier, the great can drink simply because they can, and sometimes end up all the greater." When the Wizard protested he held the man's nose until he had to swallow the rich liquid, and he couldn't find the voice to argue after that.

It was a pleasant night – the best in a long time. The two men drank as the moon climbed higher in the summer sky, recounting how they met and everything afterwards, getting more and more tipsy as the night progressed. They ended up leaning back to back, giggling at the names they had given and chosen, the moon's spotlight on them.

"Wizard!" The Master called suddenly. "Cast you magic charms on me!"

The Wizard took a swig from his bottle: they had discarded their glasses a long time ago. "Perhaps, but I'll warn you now: you'll never be the Master of me." The Master said some crude things about wands, the Wizard, and where he could stick his, but the Wizard ignored him.

The next day the pair awoke with pounding headaches: the Wizard retired to his rooms, and although the Master dragged himself through the decisions of the day, he was snappy and in a bad temper for the most of it.

* * *

><p><strong>Act VII: Secrets of the Damned<strong>

But, like most partners do, they had their secrets. The Wizard knew about the Master's drums, although _that_ hardly counted as a secret, the way he carried on; however, he never knew where he went at night. He'd enquired with the maids who did his rooms, and although they were generally extremely messy, the bed was always untouched. Where he went in the Emerald City – 'Grandeur is Greatness', apparently – and what he did there was unclear, but it was very clear to him that the Master didn't sleep a wink.

Then again, it wasn't just the Master who had secrets to keep; the Wizard had not told him about that night with Melena and the Miracle Elixir, and he hoped it would stay that way.

* * *

><p><strong>Act VIII: The Beginning of the End<strong>

It all fell apart when he met Elphaba, of course. Dear God, the green-skinned devil haunted him and chilled him to the bone. The Master, seeing the threat, immediately began trying to eliminate her, but she was as slippery as a snake and could not be found. The Wizard tried to turn a blind eye to his activities and atrocities, but soon he realised that the Master was going out of control.

And that boded ill for the both of them.

* * *

><p><strong>Act IX: The Truth Comes Out<strong>

It shocked him when a mite of a girl did his dirty work for him. Whether or not the Master was surprised he couldn't tell – in fact, the change in circumstances seemed to amuse him, if anything.

The appearance of a green glass bottle, marked 'Miracle Eli-', was less than amusing.

The Wizard sat in his rooms with it clutched to his chest for a long time, staring into space. He frantically thought back to the very last time they'd met. She had been strong and impudent, true, but...had her jawbones held the same way as his, her hair been the same glossy black as his had been before the world's cares turned it grey? He was jerked back to the present by the Master's hand on his shoulder and the glass vial being taken from him. Instinctively he clung to it, and the Master's fingers tightened like a vice.

"Don't make this difficult, Wizard." He said coldly. The Wizard hesitated, then reluctantly let go. The Master, in a sudden fluid motion, hurled it through the window, and they listened to it smash on the cobbles outside. He turned and caught sight of the Wizard's petulant glare. "Don't look at me like that – it's only a vial, for fuck's sake!"

He stormed away growling his annoyance deep in his throat, leaving the Wizard to contemplate what could have been but now never would.

* * *

><p><strong>Act X: There's No Place Like Home<strong>

And now they had crashed their balloon into the beach, and the shock of their return to normality was overwhelming.

And yet...

The sky remained bland.

The gulls screamed.

The sea roared.

And a green figure made its way towards them.

The Master swore and frantically tried to get them airborne again, but Elphaba reached over and gripped his hand. "Going somewhere, _Master_?" She spat the last word at him as if it made her feel sick. "Get out of the basket. You too, Wizard." The two men grudgingly obeyed.

"Why aren't you affected by water anymore?" The Master snapped, annoyed by being caught by a girl (again) and a green one at that. "More importantly, how are you still alive?"

Elphaba smiled thinly. "We replaced 'me' with the Flesh – it dissolved under water, and speaking of which my friend cured me of my water allergy – still not sure how though, but he did it."

"He?"

"He," She confirmed. "Apparently you know each other. Here he comes now – he can explain the situation to you better than I can."

A brown spec loped towards them, and as it approached the brown became a suit, a greatcoat, floppy hair, serious eyes. A man. He reached them and raised his chin slightly, challenging and questioning at the same time.

"No," The Master was nearly spitting with rage but looked so scared at the same time. "_No!_"

"Koschei." The man said softly, and the Wizard knew the Master's real name at last.

The Master flinched as though the man had struck him. "You know damn well that I don't use that name anymore, Theta – but you don't use that name do you, _Doctor?_"

"Master, then. You've had your fun. It's time to come home."

"Home!" The Master cackled, eyes blazing. "You destroyed home, Doctor. You destroyed Gallifrey, REMEMBER?"

"I mean the TARDIS, you know that. Master, come on, please – you don't have to forgive me, just please come with me."

"NO!"

The Doctor sighed and turned to the Wizard. "You want to come?"

The Wizard blinked. "Me? But I – I –"

Elphaba rolled her eyes and slipped her hand into his. "Listen, you're a very bad Wizard and I hate what you've done, but since you're family and all I've got left I'd much rather spend my time with you than be on my own. Slightly different to his sentiments – " She jerked her head at the Doctor, who was gazing intensely at a seething Master. " – But still, magic happens. I am a witch, after all."

"My dear, you are only a caricature of a witch. Didn't you hear me the first time?" But he smiled and nodded.

The Master looked like he was about to burst into the flames. "You're actually going to listen to the fools? Did you not listen to anything, ANYTHING that I've told you?"

Elphaba rounded on him, her rage nearly matching his. "Because of _you_, people I knew and loved have been corrupted of killed. Glinda, Boq, Nessa, Doctor Dillamond, Sarima, Fiyero – stop laughing! We're trying to give you a second chance here, and – _stop laughing at me, you ungrateful bastard!_ Doctor, please, for the love of mercy let me hit him." The Doctor shook his head and the Master kept laughing hysterically at Elphaba, mocking all she stood for. The Wizard had had enough ; he tapped the Master on the shoulder and the Master stopped laughing and started glaring instead.

"What?" He snarled.

The Wizard looked at the Master and for the first time since he'd met him realised that the man didn't have a clue what he was talking about. He nearly laughed: look at him! He's just as messed up as I am, he's just better at hiding it. "My dear Master, or Koschei, or whoever you are – I have heard you wax lyrical about your theories on Greatness and as far as I can tell they've only come down to nothing and caused needless suffering to everyone, although I suppose the suit _is_ a good idea. No, there's something else."

"_What?_"

"Humility. To admit that you were wrong and trust in other people to help you. Until you do that, you'll never be great." The Master snorted and the Wizard leaned in closer, forced eye contact, and quietened his voice so that the other two couldn't hear. "Listen, you can't hope to keep going like this. You've tried and failed and now it's time to let it go. Here's the opportunity for a bit of redemption – for God's sake don't mess this up."

"Koschei." The Doctor's voice cut in. The Master smirked humourlessly and looked away from the Wizard to the Doctor. He looked up at the sky and the gulls, then down at the sea, then back at the Doctor.

"Ok." He said, and reached out a hand.

It was an unordinary group walking down the beach in pairs – the black and the brown, the green and the grey, away from a broken blue air balloon.

And yet, somehow, it seemed very normal indeed.

* * *

><p><strong>Before I get hated, I've only read the book- 'Wicked' once so I'm really sorry if I've got any details wrong. I'm definitely sure the Wizard DID try to drown himself though...for the Doctor Who fans, I know the Flesh was 11<strong>**th****-Doctor-esque, but the 10****th**** Doctor writes better with Simm!Master than 11 – at least, to me he does. Other than that, I really hope you liked.**


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